


Don't You Dare Pity Me

by BabyBoyBolide



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [4]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Past Child Abuse, Past Childhood Sexual Assault, extreme violence, past CSA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBoyBolide/pseuds/BabyBoyBolide
Summary: Open to interpretation.





	Don't You Dare Pity Me

**Author's Note:**

> I dropped out of fandom for a while. But I'm back, I guess?

David knew Max was gone when he saw the look in the boy’s eyes. They were cold, hard, soulless. He didn’t know what had gotten into Maximilian or why he was doing everything he was. Although David knew he wasn’t the easiest to get along with, he didn’t think that he was this  _ awful _ . Was he really this intolerable?

 

Another swing struck his face and blood gushed from his nose. His bound fists burned and his nose felt like he had fallen on his face. David shrieked and let out a helpless hiccuping sob as he thrashed in his seat. The man was bound by his waist, ankles, and wrists. Rope threaded between his fingers and kept his fists tied together.

 

“Hey, David! You like to help people and achieve their full potential with them, right? How do I hold this bat so I swing the hardest? You know a lot about baseball, don’t you?”

 

A furious growl left the man and he thrashed at Max when taunted. Max knew  _ damn well _ that David knew a lot about baseball. Maxie knew a lot of things. Baseball was his favorite sport and he played it growing up. He knew all about how their couch loved David a little too much.

 

Max paused and he coughed into his forearm. The phlegm in his throat made him clear it. David’s swollen face turned to the boy and gave him a pitying look. “You started smoking, didn’t you?”

 

“Shut your whore mouth, David. Why does it matter? Do you think I have lung cancer?”

 

David shook his head and let it hang low. His furied look softened slightly. “No, Max. I just care about you.” The tips of his shoes rubbed against one another. Max didn’t tie his ankles well.

 

**_BLAM_ **

 

David screamed when the baseball bat hit the side of his face. The wood was hard and wet from his blood. His jaw sore, it hung open and loose; the third hit must have broken his jaw. Maximilian revelled in the scream and felt a shiver run down his spine.  Limp and broken, his former foster father twitched in his binds as he cried softly. He was unable to move and his face had swollen more since the first hit.

 

“Don’t you dare pity me, Camp Man,” the teen growled as he narrowed his eyes. They were like gemstones frozen in time. Looking into them, David could see every point in their past that he had messed up. Maximilian had been such a good boy. His heart wrenched at the thought and he sobbed loudly despite his broken jaw. It was shattered in one spot. Pain coursed through his face as he shook and wept.

 

After a moment, Max exhaled heavily and turned his back to the man. He walked to a chair beside a table. The door was near his left side. There were multiple locks, one including a code. Despair filled him.

 

“Do you still like The Wrecks?” Max picked up his phone and turned on a small hand-sized speaker that beeped when his bluetooth from his phone connected the two devices. “I’ll have you know that I love them now! Honestly, I think I loved them when I was a kid, but I refused to listen to them because they were your favorite band,” the teen chuckled out as he ran his thumbs over his playlists. When his Spotify opened, Max picked Revolution.

 

Music filled the room from the speaker. Despite its small size, the stereo sounded smooth and loud. David frantically ran his eyes over the walls of the room. It was dark, the lights were dim. There was a washer and dryer in the corner- it was his own home. They were in the basement. Max had been smart as a boy. He wasn’t sure why Maximilian would choose such a risque place.

 

Max’s hips moved to the beat of the music as he sashayed across the room with lidded eyes and a relaxed look. David shivered at the eeriness of his calm aura. No normal human could do this.

 

It had been three days since Max’s labor began, he realized as he danced up to David before dramatically pausing and swinging the bat once more. A screech left the wounded man, but the 17-year-old ended it swiftly by bringing it down to the back of his head. David’s cries stopped abruptly as he fainted. Max wondered what made the man pass out; pain or something else? Perhaps if he finished high school and went to college to be a doctor like Charles wanted, he’d know. He shivered at the thought of his adopted father.

 

Desperate to distract himself while he thought of more ways to prolong his ex-foster father’s torture, he pulled a small air tight container from his jacket pocket. It was round and slim. Max removed the two lids as he bounced across the room with long steps and spread his legs around the back of a chair while he sat. From the breast pocket of his shirt, the teen pulled a pill bottle with a socket stuck in a perfectly-sized hole.

 

Max sat his container on the desk and pulled a pinch of ground cannabis from it. He placed it on top of a homemade screen inside of the socket. He pulled a lighter from the front pocket of his jeans, tilted his head back, and inhaled the heavy smoke. In his lungs, it pranced around and made them itch. His eyes fell shut and he exhaled forcefully. It took a few more breaths before the smoke stopped leaving his lungs; they nearly burned with every bouncing molecule of oxygen. “I wonder if he still smokes,” Max muttered before lighting the drug at the end of his homemade pipe.

 

Lemon diesel burned in his body. A tingling sensation ran down his throat and wrapped around his heart. Lost in thought, a smile toyed with the corners of his lips. His arms crossed after the pipe was set on the desk and he laid his head on them.

 

* * *

 

_ “Max!” A voice rang out from down the stairs, “Come get dinner! I made homemade pizza!” _

 

_ Max squinted when David said he made  _ **_homemade_ ** _ pizza. While plenty of people thought David’s food tasted okay, he and Gwen knew better. They grew up in traditional homes with mothers who hand made every meal. Nobody could compare to them. _

 

_ He took a moment to think. Did David even know what he enjoyed on a pizza? If he did, how so?  _ **_How much had David been watching him?_ ** _ A shiver ran down his spine. The thought of anyone creeping on him made his stomach queasy. Eventually, he shouted back, “I’ll be down in a minute!” Max paused and bit his lip before yelling out of his open door again, “Does it have banana peppers?” _

 

**_Silence._ **

 

* * *

 

_ David’s voice made the ten-year-old jump when he heard it again. “Yes, of course! Come on!” _

 

_ How did David know banana peppers were good on pizza? Maximilian squinted again as he tossed his DS on the bed for now. Leveling up his Banette could wait for now, he guessed as he shuffled hasily down the stairs. The hems of his long skinny jeans ran across the carpet of the stairs and his father chuckled at the noise. He could hear his precious boy from yards away sometimes; everyone could. _

 

_ The florist turned and handed his son a plate with two slices of pizza. It was basically supreme with banana pepper, Max thought. The pizza smelled great, and tasted better. When the soft crust gave away to melty cheese, the boy moaned. Max couldn’t believe David made such a delicious pizza. _

 

_ After he swallowed down his first bite, Maximilian glanced up at him with furrowed brows and disbelieving eyes. “Who taught you how to make this?” _

 

_ “My abuela,” David exclaimed. “I know my cooking isn’t always that great. I guess I didn’t get close enough to my family to learn their daily recipes for great food. Though, I got to learn some bigger dishes! I got a raise, so I thought that this would be a nice change of pace for a night! Is it that good? I also looked up some stuff online and changed a few spices I used when I seasoned the pepperoni.” _

 

_ Max shivered in delight. “David, I never thought I’d get any  _ **_great_ ** _ food in this house!” _

 

_ A smile broke across David’s face. At least Max thought some of his food was  _ **_good_ ** _. _

 

_ “Well, I’m glad you like it, Max! It was expensive, but well worth it. I  _ **_love_ ** _ pizza. Can I tell you a secret?” David leaned in to Max’s ears. The boy’s brows furrowed and rose as he leaned his ear close to his father’s lips. “Pizza is one of my indulgences,” he whispered, “I can’t get enough of it.” He leaned down and pecked Max’s cheek. _

 

_ Maximilian’s lips parted in a gasp as his eyebrows shot up. His tanned cheeks turned red, as if the sun had kissed his cheeks. _

 

* * *

 

The first thing David remembered when his swollen eyes barely creaked open, was the sound of a gun firing and the feeling of Gwen’s blood splattering across his face. He could hear her icho splashing against the wall. It was a beautiful shade of red, like a passionate night between lovers in autumn. For a brief moment, David’s sanity broke enough that he thought, perhaps, Max was more of an artist than a murderer.

 

A sob left him when he recalled the death of his best friend. It was sudden and stopped his world.  _ The ground shook beneath him with every tumbling step against the rails to the stairs near the front door. _

 

David’s stomach lurched at the memory of Gwen’s death. Max’s amused smile as her body fell to the floor like a limp pile of flesh. The world spun. Dried blood was smeared across his face and dried between the fibres of his clothes. His face was swollen and tongue infected. He must have bitten some of it off. How long had he been asleep? Did Max tend to his wounds at all? The throbbing in his jaw suggested otherwise;  he was shocked when he saw his reflection. There was gauze all across his face. It was too soft and he was too numb to feel anything.

 

As he slowly regained proper conscious, the florist blinked. His mouth and tongue were dry. The pain in his jaw was unbearable; even more unbearable was the pain in his legs. Bleary ming-jades looked down to his knees and David let out a scream. It was broken and gargled, dry and helpless.

 

Max’s head snapped up to David’s sobbing form. He could practically hear his prey’s heartbeat from his desk. Across the room, Neil groaned and ran his hands down his face. “Max, did you forget to administer more morphine?”

 

“Shit,” the long-haired teen mumbled, “I fucking forgot.” Max jogged across the room and ran to David’s side. He worked quickly to inject the set amount of morphine for the next four or so hours. Neil would need to keep him updated on how that stuff worked. “How’s that, Camp Man?”

 

“Bhh…” David couldn’t speak. His broken jaw wouldn’t move and his infected tongue was healing; but his life would never be the same without his feet.

 

He looked down below his waist and shook in place. Although he couldn’t feel the pain, he could still feel his legs. David wiggled his toes, but nothing happened. Not far below his knees, both of his legs were vacant. Bewildered and lost, he reached for his legs, but was stopped by the ropes. Exhausted and malnourished, he was unable to ask questions.

 

“You’ve been out for a few days, Buddy. I don’t blame you. I hit you pretty hard. Neil’s fixed you up some, though. Hopefully you’ll be better in no time.”

 

Neil rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “I’m not really a doctor Max, I just have enough sense to Google shit and DIY it. Nikki does it all the time for her taxidermy.”

 

Maximilian huffed and crossed his arms a he made his way back to his desk. Once, it had been in his room. During middle school, he’d picked up a habit with art. To this day, he kept it, but it rarely got used. Max picked up his phone and used his thumb to scroll through a random set of songs; without glancing at the track, he played it and recognized the beat when the song began. His hips swayed as he set the phone down and rocked his head side to side. In school, he was known for his taste in music.

 

“Max,” Neil tilted his head, “Why do you suddenly care about David? If you want him to suffer, shouldn’t you kill him? He has so much to live for.”

 

David jumped in horror and his heart wrenched when Neil suggested that Max  _ murder _ him. His stomach lurched and it took a lot to hold his tongue in his mouth. If he’d gagged, vomit would follow.

 

As Max dragged a chair to David’s side, a crease formed between his brow. “I want him to be well.”   
  
“ _ But why? _ ”

 

* * *

 

_ David wrapped his arms around the boy’s midsection as he scooted up behind Max. Hugging him from behind, the camp counselor curled his limbs around Max’s body until he was spooning and protecting the boy. If someone were to get into their house in their sleep, David wanted to be the first to go. It would give Max time to get away. Maximilian’s hushed snores were like music to his ears. A smile made his lips curl as he buried his face into the back of Max’s neck. He really did sleep like a log. _

 

_ The boy stirred in his arms. His eyes flashed open and he looked down at Max’s bouncing curls. Max rolled over and buried himself into the man’s bare chest. David smiled and dove his nose into those silky curls. _

 

_ Max groaned as he woke and wrapped his arms around David in a crushing hug as he stretched his limbs. A blush dusted his cheeks when toned arms shuffled lightly as they rubbed his back. He shivered and curled into David, who wrapped himself around the boy again. _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill: Get therapy if you have trauma or need it in general, and secondly: Don't fucking DIDDLE THE KIDS. LEAVE THEM ALOOONE.


End file.
